


When I Was Your (Wo)Man

by hedaoverheelsoveryou



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clarke x Lexa, Clexa, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:07:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5038624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedaoverheelsoveryou/pseuds/hedaoverheelsoveryou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With their relationship having ended and Lexa at the love of her life's wedding, she can't help but think about how things used to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Was Your (Wo)Man

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the song "When I was your man" by Bruno Mars, here's the fic that no one asked for but I wrote it anyway because I am Clexa trash.
> 
>    
> Quick shoutout to Off2Polis who inspired me to start writing, go check them out!!

**Same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now**

When you and Clarke had finally moved in together after 8 months of orbiting between her shared flat and yours, her first plan of action was to buy a new bed to replace that prison sized mattress and ugly blue duvet you called a bed. So first thing on a Saturday morning, much to your protest, she had dragged you to the nearest furniture store to get one, and even though it was way too early and Clarke was way too energetic for this time, you didn’t dare say a word because the smile on her face rivalled that of a 5 year old chasing after the ice cream truck.

After 3 hours and two miniature tantrums from Clarke over what pillow to buy, you had finally agreed upon one and were carrying your new mattress home because, according to Clarke, she couldn’t stand another night on that mattress ‘straight outta crazy eyes’ cell block’, and apparently having men deliver it by the end of next week was an unthinkable thought to her. But as you lay awake that night, all that fuss seemed worth it because with Clarke’s legs entangled in yours and her warm breath coating your neck, you couldn’t imagine sleeping anywhere else.

However, as you lay in it now, you couldn’t help but miss her warmth and the smell of her green apple shampoo on the pillow, and the pale pink stain where Clarke spilled her nail polish on the duvet causes a dull ache in your stomach, but you just can’t bring yourself to wash it. You can’t help but miss the nights when she’d accidently kick you in her sleep, because sharp kicks from small feet are much more desirable than the throbbing pain in your heart you get when you find one of her socks under a cabinet in your room. But you can only blame yourself for this pain, because had you realised how good you had it when she was still around, your bed wouldn’t feel as lonely as it does now.

 

**Our song on the radio, but it don’t sound the same**

You first heard it when you were on one of your spontaneous road trips to somewhere Clarke suddenly wanted to go. She had insisted that you just _had to try_ the sundaes this tiny cafe off the beaten track had, and you would have argued about what was wrong with just going to the Baskin Robbins round the corner, but you had instead bit your tongue because it was probably somewhere her dad took her and those were the memories you didn’t want to dig back up.

When you had sat at the steering wheel, you weren’t surprised to hear a playlist start up; Clarke was obsessed with playlists, _hell_ she even had one for washing the dishes, so you just buckled up and got ready for the next few hours filled with Clarke belting out the top 40 with all the windows down. That was until ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ came on and you were zapped back to your grandmothers living room, where she used to play it while she danced you around the room, and you couldn’t help but smile fondly remembering her. You sang most of the lyrics under your breath, but when it came to your favourite part, you couldn’t help but look at her and sing them out loud.

“With each word your tenderness grows,” Clarke faked swooning at this, holding her hands over her heart dramatically.

“Tearing my fear apart...And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,” She wrinkled it there and you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were to have her.

“It touches my foolish heart.” And this time it’s you holding your hand over your heart, and a tiny part of you couldn’t help but imagine what a perfect first dance song it would be, but once it’s over you think you can settle for it being your song for now.

But now, driving home late after Anya surprised you with another stack of papers due in tomorrow, when it comes on the late night radio you turned on for background noise, there’s no impromptu singing at the top of your lungs with her in the passenger seat with her blonde hair waving around in the wind; instead you have to pull over at a truck stop to get yourself together because _dammit Lexa_ you can’t help but imagine her singing your song with someone else.

 

**When our friends talk about you all it does is just tear me down, cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name**

It was all Octavia’s idea to get you out with the group that night, because apparently sitting and watching Orphan Black on Netflix alone wasn’t exactly ‘social’, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t missed everyone. You knew Clarke wouldn’t be there, she was probably off with her new boyfriend somewhere, but a part of you couldn’t help but wish she was sat in her usual spot beside you laughing at Jasper’s stupid jokes.

So far no one had mentioned Clarke; thank god you thought, but when Octavia offhandedly mentioned her wedding plans you couldn’t help but shoot up from the table, knocking your chair over, and mumble out an excuse that you needed to use the restroom. You had managed for months now to block her out, love is weakness after all, but in that shabby bathroom stall on a Friday night it all came flooding out. All those pent in feelings, the endless weeks of crying in your room with the music up so Octavia and Lincoln wouldn’t hear (even though they could), being unable to have iced lemonade because it reminded you of that time at the beach and putting all her old clothes in a box because you couldn’t forget her with that Taylor Swift tour shirt draped over your chair, poured out of you like Niagara Falls.

You’re unsure exactly when Raven came into the stall, but you knew she had an idea of what you were feeling all night from the sympathetic looks she had been shooting you from across the table. She didn’t try to tell you everything was all right, because she knew it wasn’t, so she just held you while muttering “I know”, and for a second you wondered how she was so _good_ at this; but you remembered she went through the same thing with that asshole with the stupid hair. After a good long cry, you both left the stall and you splashed some water on your face because you want to keep up the strong facade so Octavia doesn’t start bringing gallons of ice cream home again.

Deciding to call it an early night you had left them with another round and headed home, spending the whole walk home rethinking your actions that night. Clarke wasn’t the one who left, that was all on you, so why are you the broken one? Why when you hear her name for the first time in weeks you break down crying? You can't help but think you've made a mistake, but it's too late to do anything about that now, she's happy. Happier than she ever was with you. 

 

**Too young too dumb to realise, that I should’ve bought you flowers and held your hand, should’ve given you all my hours when I had the chance**

Clarke had always loved flowers, and almost every weekend was spent at the park admiring the gardens by the pond, but you were too busy dodging calls from Anya to realise just how much she loved them. So when she started receiving them from a certain tall, dark and freckled friend ‘ _just because_ ’, you realised he knew her better than you did.

Hours at the office led to whole nights at the office, and more and more time was spent typing figures into a database than typing messages to your own girlfriend.

You realised just how far apart you were on a night in with your friends; you had suggested watching Greys Anatomy, because that had always been Clarke’s favourite, but when you saw her face light up when Mr Tall and Dark suggested The Walking Dead instead, you knew you’d lost her.

Your flat had begun to look less and less like your flat you had always felt was home, further resembling a showroom now, and the amount of times Anya woke you up with a slap on the head with a folder while you peeled your face off the keyboard was becoming too often to be normal.

Clarke Griffin had began to slip away, and with your reflexes now, Mr Tall and Dark was sure to catch her well before you closed your desktop and realised she was falling.

 

**My pride, my ego, my needs and my selfish ways, caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life, now I’ll never get to clean up the mess I made**

You weren’t surprised when Clarke didn’t put up much of a fight when you ended things. A promotion at your work was more important to you than a proposal, and with hardly any time spent together now it was more of a roommate situation than a relationship.

A pile of boxes on the floor one morning and a kiss on the cheek was all you got on the day she left, it’s not as though you expected anything more, and you were left with an empty flat that echoed when you played your old records and a key that you’d probably just shove in a drawer because it’s not like anyone else will be around to use it anyway. You still see her around and you try not to let the hurt register on your face when you see Mr Tall and Dark put his arm around her shoulders, you were the one who ended it anyway, but nothing could have prepared you for the heart shattering moment when you received the wedding invitation in the mail.

You always knew marriage was what she wanted, but you’d never thought it would happen this soon. Another few months or so maybe; but the harsh reality of how soon it was made you realise that had you not been engaged to your work, maybe you could have been to her instead.

 

**Take you to every party cause all you wanted to do was dance, now my baby is dancing, but she’s dancing with another man**

When you had showed her the invitation, Raven had forced you to tick attending, reminding you that Clarke and you were friends before everything else, and promised to get ‘hella drunk’ if needs be to help you get through the night.

The ceremony wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it would be, but seeing Clarke in her wedding dress was like a kick right in the gut because _God_ she was as beautiful as ever, and you couldn’t help but imagine viewing her from the front while standing at the altar, but you kept that to yourself because it was her moment and you weren’t going to take that as well.

You almost breathe a sigh of relief once the ‘I do’s’ are said, because that means the bar is open and you can finally get something to make you feel a little less numb. Raven and you dance for a while, with her showing off her _killer_ dance moves and you more or less walking around her (you never were much of a dancer anyway) until you hear Clarke's favourite song blast out the speakers and know they’re about to come out, so you both make your way to the seats to await the newlyweds for their first dance. They both look so happy in their own little moment and you’d expect to feel happy watching your friend with her probably soul mate, but you can’t fight the throb of your heart or the sadness you feel when you see her smile at him the way she used to at you.

Sitting at the table while they dance, you realise that maybe you feel so _goddamn awful_ because you’re not really over Clarke Griffin, and you can’t help but come to the conclusion that it still hurts as much as it did at the start because you let the best thing you might have ever had slip away.

She’s happier now; he buys her flowers, holds her hand and he gives her his time, something you never did, and maybe not being with her is better than trying to fight a losing battle over her and shattering your heart even more. Clarke was always too pure for a dark shadow like you, her light too bright, and just like the moon and sun, rarely meeting and almost always chasing the other, maybe in this life you just weren’t meant to eclipse. However much you wished you could be the one dancing with her, the one buying her flowers, and the one she sings with in the car, you had your chance and _dammit Lexa_ you blew it, so now all you’ll ever be to her is someone who was her dance partner, someone who was her duet partner, and someone who was her moon.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come chat/send me prompts at my tumblr @hedaoverheelsoveryou
> 
> Thanks for reading!! ^-^


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